Awakenings
by kirathaune
Summary: Al finds himself back in his human body, and while he is crossing items off his Things I'll Do When I Get My Body Back list, he realizes that the Number One item is no longer Winry's Pie. Rated for Elricest.


During all the years that Ed and Al had talked about, dreamed about getting Al's body back, they had never really gotten around to thinking about how things would be when it actually _did _happen.

So when Alphonse found himself back in a body that he'd forgotten how to use, there was naturally some panic on both their parts.

At least involuntary stuff like breathing worked on its own, thought Al as he lay there on the ground, in darkness because his eyes were closed and he couldn't quite recall how to make his eyelids move. Hearing was involuntary, too, so Al heard Ed freaking out above him, around him. _Notice that I'm breathing, Brother. I'm not dead._

"Oh, thank God, he's breathing. Al, can you hear me? Al!"

Ed always was a quick study. But his brother's voice was still cracking with fear and panic, and it made Al's heart ache to hear Ed in such distress. Al searched through blurry memories and thought really, really hard. His eyelids fluttered open, and he saw Ed hovering over him, golden eyes wide with fear. He fluttered them some more.

A wide smile broke out on Ed's face. "Al! You're awake! You're in your body - we did it!" The smile faltered when Al didn't reply. "Al?"

Al rapidly blinked. _Come on, Ed._

"You can't move?"

Blink.

"Do you hurt anywhere?"

Blink blink.

It took awhile - and Al found himself wishing that they had learned Morse code - but he eventually managed to convey his situation. The fear left Ed's expression and was replaced with what Al like to think of as Ed's 'Let's get to business' face.

"Well, let's get you inside and warm. And, um, clothed." Ed took off his cloak, wrapped it around Al's naked, emaciated body and lifted his brother into his arms.

Normally Al would complain at being carried like a baby, but right now he really _couldn't _complain. And he found that he didn't want to; all the excitement and hard thinking and blinking had left him exhausted, so Al just enjoyed seeing with his own eyes, hearing with his own ears and feeling the scratchy warmth of Ed's cloak against his skin.

Once they reached the nearest town Ed headed to a small inn and got them a room, explaining away Al's state of undress by saying that his brother had been robbed. Al discovered his lips and attempted a smile at the innkeeper's wife; it was shaky and lopsided and made the woman think he had been robbed while drunk. That was as good an excuse as any, so Ed acted sheepish while the woman fussed over Al and helped him into some of her son's clothes.

It felt strange to be wearing clothing, to feel the fabric encasing his arms and legs. He'd almost forgotten how it felt, and Al enjoyed the soft rasp of the woven shirt against his skin while Ed carried him upstairs and deposited him on the closest of the two beds.

It was a soft, fluffy bed. The pillows were soft and fluffy too, and Al soon had a whole pile of them helping him sit up.

A working mouth meant crossing off the top third and fourth items on Al's What I'll Do When I Get My Body Back list - Eating and Drinking. Ed would only let him have some broth the innkeeper's wife brought up for them, though, so Al decided to leave Eating uncrossed-off for now. The broth was heavenly, and he wished he could have more, but Ed was being careful and only allowed him two bowls.

"Don't want you getting sick," Ed chided. "You need to go slow."

And oh, Number Five! The bathwater was the perfect temperature, and Ed sat behind him in the tub and washed the grime from both their bodies. It was so strange to watch long, thin arms and legs being lifted and bathed, when all Al remembered were the short, plump limbs of his boyhood self. He was a good head taller than Ed, he estimated. Ed was not going to be pleased about that.

But Al was pleased that he hadn't returned to an eleven-year-old body.

It was a little weird having Ed dress him, slipping on a pair of borrowed boxers and the borrowed nightshirt. The automail hand was cold against Al's skin but Ed's real hand was warm and Al could feel his brother's rapid pulse beneath slightly shaking fingers.

"Wow, Al, your hair is almost as long as mine!" Ed began to comb out the tangles with steady strokes, and then he worked golden-brown lengths into a thick braid.

It felt wonderful.

Even more wonderful was getting tucked into that fluffy bed, under the covers. To Al's surprise, Ed climbed in next to him, and Al felt his brother's warm, strong arms wrap around him, felt Ed's body press against his. Ed buried his face in Al's neck and murmured, "I'm afraid to let you out of my sight. It's okay if I stay here with you, right?"

Al finally figured out his vocal chords, and with great effort he uttered a single word. "B-brother." His voice had the raspy hush of late autumn leaves.

And then his neck was wet, because Ed was crying.

Safe in his brother's arms, Al let his eyelids slide shut and he was finally able to do the next to the top item on his What I'll Do When I Get My Body Back list.

He slept.

~.~.~

Morning and a good night's sleep (!) brought gifts: hunger, moving limbs and the need to take a piss. His movements were still jerky and a bit uncoordinated, so Ed helped him take care of the latter with an empty jug, and this time he let Al actually eat something - it was only porridge, but at least it wasn't broth.

Everything finally worked! By lunchtime Al was able to take a few lurching steps, and was allowed to have soup and a biscuit (!) to eat. While Ed went into town to buy him some new clothes Al practiced holding things and refining his movements, and even managed to teeter to the bathroom by himself. He crawled back into his bed, and spent the next hour or so just savoring his newly-regained senses.

The mattress and pillows were plump and soft beneath him, around him. Al wanted to feel it all over him, so he pulled off his nightshirt and lay there in his brother's borrowed boxers, appreciating the feel of fresh-washed cotton against his bare skin.

From downstairs the incredible aroma of food being cooked wafted into the room and Al inhaled it deeply. He hoped he would be allowed to eat whatever it was, because it all smelled really, really good.

He listened to the bustling activity of the inn; the clang of pots and pans in the kitchen, the murmuring voices of incoming travelers, the crack of the innkeeper's axe as he chopped firewood beneath Al's window. While he had been able to 'hear' when he was in the armor, Al found these sounds to be so much richer now, more _real _now that he was hearing them through his own ears.

And then there was his body - wondrously new, wondrously his again. Al counted his fingers and toes, unbraided his hair and admired the long golden-brown strands that fell past his shoulders, re-braided it and then he ran his hands along his pale, smooth skin.

Al was soon ready for a nap, and in the lazy moments before he drifted off to sleep he wondered how Ed's skin would feel beneath his fingers.

~.~.~

When he woke the sky had darkened to a deep cobalt blue, and while Al yawned and stretched he enjoyed the sound and smell of wood burning in the fireplace. Ed was setting dinner at the small table in their room, and he looked over at Al with a big smile.

"You're up! Just in time, too - Mrs. Thornton made us a nice dinner." Ed waved a gloved hand at a pile of clothing on the other bed. "She's also going to take in the pants I just bought you, so that we can let them out bit by bit as you get your weight back to normal." He frowned as Al climbed out of his bed and shuffled over to examine the pile of clothes. "Where's your nightshirt?"

Al looked down at his borrowed boxers and lifted a pale shoulder in a shrug. "I wanted to feel the covers against my skin. Did you get me pajamas? I always liked them better than nightshirts." At his brother's nod Al poked though the clothes until he found a pair of plaid pajamas, and then he leaned against the wall for support while he put them on. "It's so awesome to be wearing clothes again," he said, smiling while he made his way to the table to sit down. "Do I get to eat for real tonight, brother?" He gave Ed his best puppy-eyes look.

Ed made a great show of contemplating the question. Al threw his napkin at him.

"Okay, I guess so," Ed replied with a laugh, and he handed Al a plate laden with meatloaf, mashed potatoes and gravy. "Just be careful, okay? Not too fast and not too much," he admonished while he set two glasses of red wine next to their plates. He sat down opposite his brother and they began to eat.

Al carefully loaded his fork with a little of everything and took a bite. He groaned as the flavors burst across his tongue. "Mmmm, it tastes so good!" He waved his fork at Ed and grinned. "Look, brother, I'm eating!" He took a sip of wine, laughing when a few drops dribbled down his chin. "I'm drinking!" His tongue darted out to catch the wayward droplets.

_I'm eating. I'm eating food, and drinking wine._

Ed's eyes were suspiciously bright, and his voice was husky as he replied, "Yeah, you are. We're eating together." He touched his winecup to Al's. "Here's to us, Al - we did it!" Ed drained his cup, and while he poured another he waggled a finger at Al. "You only get that cup."

Al stuck his tongue out at Ed and then went back to savoring his dinner.

The food was wonderful. Al wondered briefly if it tasted so good because he had gone so long without eating, but when he saw Ed attacking his plate with gusto he knew that the food was genuinely good. Al was careful, taking small bites and chewing carefully - there was no way he was going to risk getting sick later! They passed next hour companionably, and when they were done Ed gathered the plates together on a tray and returned them to the kitchen while Al washed his face, brushed his teeth (who knew that he would ever be excited about brushing his teeth?) and got back into his bed, shucking off the pajamas so he could feel the sheets against his (mostly) naked body again. He stretched luxuriously and yawned, thinking that even being tired was something to marvel at and enjoy.

"Al," Ed called from the hallway, "I've got a surprise for you, so close your eyes."

A surprise? Al sat up and squeezed his eyes shut. "Okay!"

"Are they closed?"

"Yes!"

Al heard the creak of the door, heard his brother whisper, "Shush," and then his lap was suddenly filled with something warm and infinitely soft.

It meowed.

His eyes flew open. "A kitty!" he exclaimed with delight. Number Seven! It was a fluffy ginger cat, and after Al scratched behind its ear it settled and began kneading his comforter-covered lap. He sank his fingers into the cat's soft fur and felt its rumbling purrs. Al almost felt like purring himself. "Thanks, Ed!"

Ed perched on the edge of the bed and reached over to pet the cat. "Which number is he? I know 'Petting A Cat' has to be on that list of yours."

"Seven." Al smiled when the animal flipped over on its back to demand a tummy rub.

"We're already crossing off a lot on your list, aren't we?" Ed grinned at his brother. "Although it will take us a little while to get back to Resembool to have Winry's apple pie! That's still Number One, right?"

Al didn't answer.

He _couldn't_ answer, at least not right now anyway. While Al had every intention of eating an entire apple pie as soon as he saw Winry, eating said pie was no longer at the top of his List. It hadn't been for a good year or so now. But if he told Ed that, Ed would want to know what was now in the top slot - and Al wasn't quite ready to answer that question.

The cat suddenly decided it was done being loved and darted off the bed, and Ed got up to let the animal out of their room. Al was glad of the distraction and hunkered back under the covers. He watched while his brother readied himself for bed, and he blinked in surprise when Ed slid under the covers next to him.

"It's okay, right?" As he settled in, Ed's good foot brushed against one of Al's legs and he peered under the covers. "No pajamas again?"

Al gave him a sheepish grin. "I like the feel of the sheets - they're freshly washed. Remember when we were little, and Mom would make our beds with sheets that had hung out in the breeze all afternoon? Remember how much we loved the way it felt against our skin?"

Ed ran his hand lightly over the soft cotton. "Yeah, I remember," he replied with a smile. "you used to kick off your pajamas then, too." He laughed and then shucked off his own pajamas and tossed them onto his empty bed. "It feels just like back then!"

Al joined in the laughter. "Yeah, but it used to be _me_ sneaking into _your_bed!"

"That's because you were afraid of thunderstorms. And Pinako's scary stories."

Al tugged on his brother's braid. "Well, it's not thundering and Pinako isn't telling any stories... so what are you afraid of, Ed?"

Ed's face lost all trace of merriment. "Losing you," he whispered, and he touched Al's cheek.

Al's grin faded, and he rolled onto his side to face his brother. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm afraid I'm going to wake up and these two days will have been just a dream."

"Ed." Al took his brother's good hand and pressed it against his bare chest. "It's not a dream. Feel my heartbeat?"

"Yes."

Al moved Ed's hand down a bit to rest on his ribcage. "And here. Do you think I would be this skinny if it were a dream?"

Ed smiled at that. "No, I guess not." He slipped his hand out from under Al's and trailed his fingers across the hills and valleys of Al's painfully visible ribs.

Al's heart started beating a little faster. "W-well, there you go, then. It's not a dream." He found himself holding his breath when Ed's hand came up to trace along his face, over his cheekbones and jaw.

"It's so strange, seeing you older," Ed murmured. "I mean, I know you're older - we're both older - but whenever I would think of you having your body back, it was always the eleven-year-old you."

"I'm glad my body aged," said Al, swallowing as Ed's fingers ran down the side of his neck and drifted across his prominent collarbones. The gentle, reverent touches were doing strange things to Al's insides... he felt was like there was a rabble of butterflies fluttering in his belly. It felt weird, but good too.

It felt so good to be _touched_.

Ed nodded in agreement. "It would have sucked to be eleven again." He swept his fingers from shoulder to shoulder. "Your shoulders are wider than mine. You're taller, too." He pouted.

Al bit his lip. "Sorry."

His brother chuckled. "Nah, it's okay. Guess I take more after Mom." Ed swept his hand across Al's chest, and when Ed's palm brushed over one of his nipples the butterflies in Al's stomach flew straight down to his groin.

For the first time in his life Al felt his dick getting hard. It was exciting, terrifying and - since he was laying less than a foot away from Ed - embarrassing. In an attempt to distract himself Al reached over and gently touched the scars where Ed's automail arm was joined to his body. "Your skin feels so different there, but it's still soft." Al ran his fingers along where metal met flesh. "I've wanted to touch them for a long time, to know how they felt." He continued to explore the bumpy ridges of skin and looked at his living hand where it rested on his brother's artificial limb. "We still need to get _your _body back."

"That doesn't matter," replied Ed breathlessly. "Getting you back to normal was always more important."

Al shook his head. "No," he said firmly, "We're going to get you back to normal too. You gave up this arm for me, and we're going to get it back." He bent his head and pressed a kiss to the scarred skin.

Ed's breath hitched. "A-Al?"

There was something _different _about his brother's voice, and when Al leaned back and looked at him he saw that Ed's golden eyes were wide and dark.

He wondered if Ed was hard, too.

The thought made Al's heart start to thump painfully in his chest, and before he could change his mind he blurted, "Remember how after dinner you asked me if Winry's apple pie was still Number One on my List?"

Ed nodded. "You didn't really say yes."

Al swallowed. "That's because it isn't any more."

"What is Number One now?" Ed's voice was a hoarse whisper.

"This," Al whispered back, and he was finally able to do the Number One item on his What I'll Do When I Get My Body Back list.

He took his brother's face in his hands and kissed him.

Ed let out a strangled squeak when Al's mouth covered his, and for a few, eternal seconds his lips were unmoving. Then Al felt a tremor run through his brother's body and Ed began to kiss him back. At first it was a pressing of lips, followed by panting, gasping breaths. Then their lips met for a longer press, and they touched each other's mouths with trembling fingers while the damp puffs of their ragged breathing intermingled between them.

"Y-you're my b-brother," Ed stammered, but he rubbed his thumb over Al's plump, glistening lower lip. "We shouldn't want to do this."

Al was immensely relieved - and pleased - to hear the word _we_. "But I do want to," he replied, kissing Ed's thumb. "I've wanted to for years. Who cares if our bodies are related? It's my soul that loves you." He dove in for another kiss.

This time it was a hungry joining of mouths, hands sliding into hair and muffled groans. Then Ed's tongue was pushing into his mouth and when Al felt the hot, wet slide of it against his own tongue his insides exploded. He felt a damp, sticky warmth in his boxers as his body shuddered, and he buried his face in his brother's neck and panted his name against warm, sweaty skin. He felt Ed's lips against his temple and listened to his own name being whispered back in reply while Ed's arms wrapped around him.

Al didn't know how long they lay there, tangled together, and while he drifted down from his climax he listened to the rapid tattoo of Ed's heartbeat and enjoyed the feel of Ed's hand rubbing lazily up and down his spine. A sleepy languor was starting to creep over him, but he was also uncomfortably aware of the need to change. Cold and sticky was not pleasant.

"Um, I need to clean up," he admitted with a blush, and he shifted out of Ed's embrace. Al hovered at the edge of the bed, reluctant to leave the room. He was afraid that when he would come back from the bathroom Ed would be in his own bed, separate. "I..." He bit his lip. "A-are you... Will..." _Will you still be here? Will we still share a bed? Will you change your mind?_ Al didn't know how to ask, and his words trailed off to an embarrassed silence.

Ed looked at him steadily, and then he said, "Go hurry up and change before your side of the bed gets cold." He leaned back against the pillows, crossed his arms behind his head and gave Al a lopsided grin. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere."


End file.
